Slow Release
by caedligh
Summary: SasoDeiSaso AU Teen Angst.  Through an act of hot-tempered fate Sasori and Deidara cross paths and begin to take note of each other.  It's kind of a struggle of identity, masculinity, and morality.
1. Pilot

**SOME THINGS BEFORE READING**

This is not truly high school based. If you were looking to find that I deeply apologize.

This is also not a happy/fluffy story with an ending where everyone ends off happy.

Also, as pretty implied through the filter search, this is a mature slashfic where there is a bit of an age difference between the two main characters.

There will be sex eventually. Who's on top will vary they both have penises.

Sorry this is so rough!

* * *

A young boy entered the bustling cafeteria in as irritable as a mood as ever, if not worse. His lengthy blonde hair fell sloppily in tangles from napping in his last class, obscuring one of his large blue eyes which were narrowed from a furrowed brow accompanied by a tight frown. He was standing at the edge of the room, scanning for familiar faces while his stomach gave audible protests. Quickly tiring of ignoring his appetite, he decided to get in the exponentially growing lunch line. He stood at the back of the line halfheartedly trying to peak over the mass of people and figure out what was being served, though hindered by the sloped ramp, further developed boys, and his own short stature. Retiring with a grunt, he leaned against the paint-chipped railing. Running his hands across the rough surface he closed his eyes for a moment, anticipating the next class where his hunger would be somewhat nonexistent and he could sleep.

However the young boy's rest didn't last very long when he jolted up at the feeling of something cold running down his chest and soaking through his shirt. Just catching one of the older, taller boys he had spotted earlier with his food tray in a mess. Obviously not viewing this short freshman boy as threat, the older male growled, "Watch where you're going there kiddo or next time I'm going to have to kick your ass." Also assuming he was then done with the situation, the boy went to walk away from the situation and join his table who he would have an interesting story for. Perhaps with the intention on spicing it up and making this blonde kid more of an opponent.

"Excuse me? I'm pretty _fucking_ sure your dumb ass ran into me!" Came a reply as the freshman shook his hands, sprinkling the milk behind him as he approached the older boy who had a mild look of surprise on his face. Throwing down his books and bag, Deidara grinned, adrenaline coursing through his body. The other male opened his mouth as if he were expecting this kid to be all talk only to be quickly greeted by a fist.

Deidara sat on his couch, frozen bag of carrots covering his face, vaguely listening to the movie that was playing on the television. The fight had gone on for only a few moments, Deidara getting in quick, fast punches and doing most of the damage, but didn't end up emerging from the fight unscathed. Before a swarm of faculty had broken them up he had received a split, swollen, lip that's blood had stained the front of his shirt and a sizable black eye. Conversely, he had heard the junior boy was having some jaw issues along with a sprained wrist from the initial punch. Getting in fights along with various other trouble wasn't out of the norm for the hot tempered boy. Ever since he started school he had been a terror, getting in enough trouble to be flirting with expulsion, however taking on someone within the first week of school was something new from him.

Then, as expected, he heard his front door being pounded on. Standing up, the plastic bag of vegetables fell off of his face and on to the floor, his pale skin now tinged pink where it wasn't already discolored. Walking over to the door he opened it to find the face of the boy he had been searching for in the cafeteria. The boy had very light, nearly white slicked back hair and strikingly bright violet eyes that always had made Deidara wonder if he had some traces of albinism in his family. He was of fairly tall height and a rather muscular build. Deidara always thought if he had just learned to keep his mouth shut it wouldn't be hard at all for him to find that someone to take to bed that he always complained about not having. "About time fucking blondie. I mean, what the fuck? You go apeshit the third day of school? I'm not saying it isn't badass and you might now have a reputation, but maybe you should have waited. I've been itching for a good fight!" Hidan nearly tore off his leather coat, throwing it over his shoulder and paraded into Deidara's house. Looking down at the other's neck, he spotted dried blood that had been missed during him cleaning up. "But damn, you look fucked up."

"This isn't the point. You grabbed my things, yeah?" The blonde asked, disappointingly looking at the empty handed Hidan. "According to administration they found nothing. I doubt they are being assholes and denying me it. I got off on only a three day suspension."

Hidan shrugged, grabbing a flask out of his pocket and taking a swing. "HellufIknow. I didn't see shit, and I'm not talking about just your things. I got in the fucking place late and just saw you covered in fucking BLOOD and that other fucker looking really fucked up, also pretty bloody." He handed Deidara the flask.

Taking a sip, he allowed the liquid to burn his mouth and throat then slowly creep to his ears where they rested as a subtle warmness. He and Hidan had been close partners in crime in middle school, though with Hidan being a year ahead of him their joint reign in terror was fairly short-lived. Taking more sips as he walked back to his couch, "I don't see why anyone would steal my shit, there isn't anything valuable there. Maybe someone took it and saw that there wasn't shit in it and put it back in the lost and found."

Hidan plopped down next to Deidara, picking up the bag of frozen carrots. "Carrots? Ew, sick. Isn't it supposed to be a steak for when you fuck up your eye?" He tossed the bag in the younger male's general direction.

Accustomed enough to Hidan's comments to ignore them, Deidara asked, "Can you go and check tomorrow?"

"Fuck blondie, do I look like your damn mother?" Hidan grabbed the flask, taking larger and larger drinks. He sighed, the scent of alcohol radiating off of him, "Why the hell do ya need it? Are you enthused about your homework?"

"No. I just want my sketchbook. It was in there and my mother bitches enough about me asking for shit, I don't want to try to get another one out of her." Anticipating the direction of the conversation, Deidara went into the kitchen, and grabbed a few menus off of the refrigerator.

"Er. . .use fucking lined paper?" Hidan asked, passing the flask again. Deidara rolled his eyes tossing the other male the menus. Knowing that there were some expensive options on that menu, the younger boy added, "Tell me what you want. I have only have ten dollars so throw in some, I'm not paying for us both."

Hidan looked over the things, buying a few minutes of comfortable silence where Deidara held the carrots against his eye. "Eh, fucking salad place? What the hell is that?" Hidan muttered to himself gruffly as he tossed the rejected places on the coffee table. "Wait! Lets get shit from this rib place!"

"It doesn't deliver." Deidara informed the other.

"It doesn't matter!" Hidan exclaimed, throwing on his coat, placing his precious flask in the breast pocket. Within moments he had went to the couch where he grabbed the boy unexpectedly and carried him out the door. "Let's fucking go!"


	2. Product

**A note from the author:  
**

I'm very pleased to see people enjoying this. Though I strongly believe you should write for yourself, knowing others appreciate what you do is _always_ nice. Even at this early stage I am thanking everyone, even if you've only skimmed.

Secondly I'm still putting in a warning(this will be the last) that there will be **sex, drugs, and rock'n-course language, **but I know you are all big scary Mature fanfic readers. I'll assume that you'll be fine.

Not to hold up the story anymore with my rapidly growing note, but for some great watching, I _**HIGHLY**_ recommend the film Howl starring James Franco. It's full of obscenity and gay (or better yet read Howl and other Poemsby Allen Ginsberg).

* * *

Over the time of his suspension Deidara occupied most of his time living in a sort of teenage fantasy land. He stayed in bed well into the afternoon, awoke for just long enough to see his mother before she departed off for work, then did as he pleased the rest of the day. He worked mostly on sculptures and invited Hidan over, which always resulted in them getting into some mild trouble. Hidan preferred starting fights with strangers and under-aged drinking, while Deidara was much more likely to urge the older male to go out so he could put his rather sticky fingers in action. During those few days the young boy had watched a good portion of the discoloring underneath his eye disappear save for a tiny purple triangle underneath his left eye.

When the time came to return to school Deidara wasn't nearly as disappointed as one may presume. However, when he checked the school office for his backpack he found that Hidan wasn't as dense as he had initially figured. He was correct when he had said there was nothing even close to what he was looking for was stored in the closet which served as the "Lost and Found." The rest of the day consisted of late work drastically piling up and various teachers harassing him about his lack of textbooks and papers. By the time of his fourth hour two days after returning, Deidara was beyond frustrated by hearing this endless nagging for work that he had no way to complete. One particular teacher seemed to have him already pegged as a trouble maker and started prematurely threatening the young boy with book fines.

Now in the hour for 'Art Survey I,' he was ready for the only class he hadn't found beyond irritating. In front of him sat a simple still life of three different sized bottles. The goal of this exercise was for the class to master their speed and do a continuous line contour drawing of their bottles. Although, it didn't take long for Deidara's anger to transition into his artwork. What were meant to be delicate, precise lines came out harsh and dark, graphite layers rapidly building up on the edges. With the end of the hour rapidly approaching, Deidara, completely lost in his work, while he tried his best to make this rough style resemble the still life enough to get him a decent grade. While doing this, he was suddenly interrupted with something heavy being dropped on his table, the dust from the graphite spreading across the paper. Shortly after something much lighter was tossed in front of him, obscuring a great deal of his assignment.

Immediately the young boy recognized the object as his sketchbook. Deidara turned around, expecting to find one of the administrators looking mildly irritated, but instead saw an unfamiliar red haired boy. He looked older, he had to be at least a senior or one hell of a young looking student teacher. He was on the shorter end of a medium height with a slender build. However, what he lacked in physical structure, he compensated with appearance, looking better presented than most of his peers. He wore a muted burgundy sweater with well-fitted, dark denim and some darker colored dress shoes. His eyes were a grey color, which seemed lighter due his sclera's glassy and blood shot appearance. His eyelids fell heavily over those hazy orbs, making him look somewhat bored while his brow threatened to form a contradicting scowl. However, the corner of his lips were already pulled up in just the coyest of manner, forming an over all condescending smirk.

Confused as to how this person he would already characterize as an "arrogant bastard" got a hold of his belongings, Deidara put down his pencil. In a cool, smooth, voice this stranger spoke, "You. . .you would happen to be the owner of _those_." He rose a pale hand, first gesturing towards the bag, then to the sketchbook that was covering his still life. The red haired stranger left his hand there for a moment before reaching down and tapping the edge of the paper, "The terrible quality of your line. . .here. . .makes you the obvious owner of at least that sketchbook."

"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?" Deidara exploded, certainly not pleased to see the person who had caused him all this trouble _stealing_ his things turn out to be nothing but a snobby, stoned, pretty boy. "And why would even have them in the first place?"

Refusing to answer, the stranger merely laughed and exited the room before the young blonde had time for his anger to get physical. For a few moments he sat there fuming, doing his best to ignore the others at his art table and how their eyes were wide with either shock or excitement. Then, as a small mercy the bell rang, signaling the class to go to lunch.

* * *

Orange tendrils greedily engulfed yet another piece of paper. The bleached edges curled under the insatiable flames, within moments turning them into nothing but ash and ember that had fallen on to the concrete. Deidara hit the nearly empty sketchbook against his thigh as he watched this scene in a subdued manner. It was quite a contrast from when he had frantically checked the contents of his sketchbook, nearly tearing out pages as he looked for anything that had been changed since getting it back. Although he found nothing but drawings he was beginning to become fond of, he decided the only proper action is to now destroy it.

The idea had first come to him after the lunch bell rang and he slowly walked to his locker. The hallways had been deserted when his shaking hands first opened the book, only to find his stacked anxiety had been for no reason. Perhaps more frustrated than he would have been with destroyed work, he had snatched his necessities and left. School would serve him nothing but added negative feelings and the make-shift fire pit in his backyard was looking lonely.

On the way home he had stopped by a convenience store, buying a simple bag of chips, but managing to lift three lighters in the process. With one of these lighters in hand, he lit a cigarette before feeding in another sheet of paper. Next to him his phone made a dull vibration in the grass. Regardless of whether it would be someone important or not, he ignored it. As an after thought he imagined his choice of ignoring it was the better than the strong urge to throw _that_ in the fire as well. He considered how the plastic would melt, where it might burn, and all the lovely liquids inside which could be volatile enough in flame to give him a satisfying combustion.

Instead of acting on this urge that he was nurturing, Deidara opened up his sketchbook, taking out the only blank sheet left. Tracing the paper, he felt the slight grain against his finger tips. _"Perhaps something will be saved."_ He thought to himself, though only audibly giving a grunt as he reached his hand in his pocket and grabbed a pen. Slowly he began to construct his fantasized scene, capturing every essence he wished to see. When the boy found himself satisfied with the product the fire had all but died. Tearing out the drawing, he sat it beside him, then proceeded in pitching in the rest of the sketchbook, _"After all, this is completely new."_


End file.
